


Of Service

by OMGitsgreen



Series: Shadow and Fire [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Resolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, hot wizard hanky panky in the second chapter, i miss essek pls come back, no feet apart because they are definitely gay, the inherent eroticism of wizards, two bros chilling in a hot tub, written pre episode 91
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:46:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21724717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OMGitsgreen/pseuds/OMGitsgreen
Summary: "With some reassurance, Essek found his way up the stairs, thankful to the Luxon for his flotation magic. He made it to the cubby where Jester had promised was an area they kept towels and baskets for clothes. Essek laboriously divulged himself of his clothing, and grabbed a towel. He heard the bubbling of the hot tub, felt a few wisps of warmth cutting through the bracing cold and caress his skin. Essek opened the door, and Caleb stared back at him."Essek Thelyss wasn't always Essek Theylss, but Essek always did seem to find himself in trouble. Good thing too, because trouble is what he is good at.
Relationships: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast
Series: Shadow and Fire [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1587586
Comments: 56
Kudos: 482





	1. Of Service

**Author's Note:**

> So...it’s been like a whole year since I’ve written a fanfic, so I'm horrifically out of practice and this probably sucks. Partly because of my teaching job, but mostly because I have been invested in Critical Role and I don’t usually like to write fanfics while something is ongoing...however...I just can’t resist Shadowghast. I can’t. Will this headcanon and stuff all be thrown out the window in a few months probably? Yes. Do I care because I wrote about hot wizards in a hot tub no feet apart because they are gay? No. 
> 
> Thanks! Hope you enjoy!

Incense trailed up to the ceiling, swirling in the air like something living and breathing. The air itself was laden with its scent, of rare flowers that bloomed in the southern swamps and myrrh. It made Essek somewhat dizzy, and brought him somehow out of his own body. It was an odd sensation to be sure and it twisted something in his guts uncomfortably. The Skysybil looked at him, her yellow eyes trailing over his face like the ghost of a touch, and he couldn’t help but shiver. She reached her old withered claws out to him, to grip him by the chin and ground him in the present. He was on his knees, guards still grasping his shoulders, and his hands still bound behind him. 

“You are the boy that has everyone so up in arms,” Skysybil accused, and Essek found his tongue too heavy to move. “Look me in the eye, boy. So that I may see you.” 

Essek did as she commanded, afraid should he fail that a punishment would befall him. When he caught her eyes, he felt her gaze dig into him, as if his skull was dirt that could be burrowed through. The light in her lantern-like eyes making him feel smaller than what he was, especially as the Skysybil’s goblin form not even as tall as he was kneeling. 

“Hmph,” Skysybil said, releasing his chin and nearly throwing him back in disgust. “You are not consecuted, that much is obvious. So either you are a spy or you are just a foolish boy who has a death wish--stealing a spellbook from a noble den’s carriage. Tell me, boy, who were you stealing it for, a benefactor or yourself?” 

Skysybil’s hand curled in a somatic gesture and she tapped her staff, and Essek felt an odd prickling at the back of his skull. Essek ground his teeth, scrunching his eyes against the feeling, before with a gasp and a toss of his head the feeling went away. 

“Even if you don’t compel me to tell the truth, I’ll still say it. I was taking it for myself,” Essek snapped, leveling his best glare. Though based on the way the goblin’s ancient deep furrowed wrinkled turned up in a grin, it had the effect of a moorbounder babe roaring at his mother. It incensed him even more than it should, and he straightened his spine though his bones creaked and protested at the sudden movement. 

“Oh,” Skysybil said, with an amused chuckle that sounded more like knocking the dust from her ribs. “And what were you planning on doing with it?”

“Selling it of course,” Essek said sharply, too quickly. “The Den it belonged to certainly doesn’t need more money, but I do.” 

“You see, but I know a spark of ambition when I see one. I’m sure when we found whatever little hovel you squeezed yourself out of, we’ll find all sorts of squandered materials and scrolls, won’t we?” Skysybil said, Essek schooled his face into neutrality, while the goblin laughed even heartier. “That’s dangerous, boy. You know as well as I do that dunamancy is for the Dens, and that power is best placed where it belongs.” 

No, I don’t know that, Essek wanted to growl, to scream, but he held his head up high instead. Very well, he thought. Patience it is. Essek knew patience well, knew it as well as he knew shame. All people were motivated by the same thing, to relieve themselves of that aching bit of shame inside of them. The root of that shame was different, how they quelled their instincts was different, but it was the ultimate motivator. If one waited long enough, if one was patient enough, one could find the source of weakness and exploit it. Essek knew this lesson well, had learned it listening in the cracks of a floorboard, sneaking things from bags, jumping off a roof to escape and dragging himself two weeks later to a two-bit cleric who set his legs but did nothing to help the debilitating pain in his spine. If he was patient and thoughtful and useful, he would survive. 

Everyone knew the Skysybil was thousands of years old, had seen much more and had worked besides the Bright Queen herself. But the Skysybil had a soft spot somewhere, had something that Essek could exploit to his benefit. If he could get her to think he was more valuable alive than dead, then he could live another day. As long as he could live, survive, then Essek would escape. 

What would make Essek valuable to the Skysybil? How could he ingratiate himself to her? People like her understood power, understood the desire for perfection, loved and cherished the Luxon above all else--

“You are right,” Essek said and the Skysybil paused whatever order she was about to give to the guard. “In your infinite wisdom, I’m sure that you understand the machinations of fate in a way that I cannot comprehend. I am young, I am only in my second decade, and I can be hasty. But I believe that my error has brought me here for a reason...the Luxon has brought me here for a reason.” 

“And what reason is that?” Skysybil asked, losing for a moment her amused domineering gaze. 

“If you go to my hovel, you will find squandered materials and pilfered scrolls. But I don’t need the scrolls anymore...because I can already utilize dunamancy. The guard who was injured didn’t trip, I manipulated dunamis to pull him forward. The scouts couldn’t find my footsteps, not because I am a gifted rogue, but because I used my power to float, a spell that I personally constructed. If I can live, I know that I can become more powerful, and I will be of service to the Bright Queen and the Luxon. And you will be the one they honor, for lifting me out of the muck.” 

“Do you hear that, Skysybil? He wishes to be of use to me.”

Suddenly all the air escaped the chamber. Essek looked beyond the Skysybil for a moment, and saw the most ethereal being that he had ever laid eyes upon. She, the Bright Queen, wore a dress that was woven together by stars and mithril that caught the lamplight as she moved. In her hair was a glorious crown of silver and opal, and in her elaborate braids silver thread shimmered. And yet all seemed dimmed by her face, which was so radiantly beautiful that surely all who looked upon her fell into a trance. So dumbfounded he was by her, by her presence that seemed to fill the chamber with light, that his jaw dropped and he sank down low. 

“Bow your head!” Skysybil hissed at him, grabbing him by the hair and forcing him down. He tried not to yelp at the sensation. With her claws digging in his head, Essek barely felt the guards release him. Based on the rustling and faint clanking of metal, they must have taken their places and kneeled. “Your majesty, I did not expect you here. If I had known, I would have had the boy’s fool tongue cut out before you heard him address you in such an ignorant way.”

“But it was such an amusing turn of phrase,” the Bright Queen chuckled, “and eloquently stated at that.” 

Essek heard delicate footsteps and the rustle of fabric, and then the goblin’s claws were off of his head. A cool gentle hand touched his cheek, and Essek looked up and saw the Bright Queen contemplating him. Essek trembled, unable to help it, he was so close to her that he could smell the perfume that she must have dabbed upon her wrists. Essek had heard the songs the bards spun of her beauty and power, and found it oddly funny none ever mentioned that her eyes were the color of turquoise. 

“Child, what is your name?” the Bright Queen asked him. 

“Essek, your majesty,” Essek whispered. 

“Your den?” 

“I have none," Essek said. It was the truth, though he didn't go into any more detail than that. If she asked, he would be compelled to answer. But he hoped beyond all hope that she didn't ask. 

“I see,” the Bright Queen said thoughtfully. “A child alone.” 

“A dangerous boy,” Skysybil scoffed, tapping her twisted cane. 

“Children need guidance and support,” the Bright Queen said as she stood up, tall and radiant. “They need to know someone loves them. Without a denmother, how is a child to be guided, especially a child of such potential? I feel the magic in this one thrumming in his veins, he nearly drips with it, surely you feel it too.” 

“Another pet for you to dote on,” Skysybil grumbled. 

“My friend, children are not pets,” the Bright Queen laughed, clear as a bell, and then she whispered. “Though I enjoy doting, do not let anyone know that I can be indulgent. This will be a secret between us.” 

It took Essek a moment to realize that she was addressing him privately. Essek, now dumb and mute, only found it within him to nod. 

“Lady Theylss,” the Bright Queen addressed, and suddenly Essek realized that there were others in the room. He normally would have been angry at himself at the lack of awareness, but Leylas Kryn was like the sun. Everything else paled in comparison to her. The woman who must have been Lady Thelyss, the Denmother of one of the most powerful dens in all of the Kryn Dynasty, stood with the other courtiers. She stepped forward and curtsied before the Bright Queen. “This boy tried to steal something from your family did he not?” 

“Yes, your majesty.” 

“Then I’ll leave his punishment to your discretion, and his education to your charge,” the Bright Queen said as she brushed past all of them, lingering at the door as the rest of her courtiers fluttered about her like moths. “I shall hope to see him again soon, to see how he may be of service to me.” 

Essek bowed his head until his forehead touched the floor, and didn’t dare to look up.

* * *

The Willow’s Embrace was a bespoke establishment, just on the outside of the Firmament’s District in the Gallimaufry district of Rosohna. There entertainment and companionship could be bought for a high-price. Essek waited in a lavishly prepared room, the one he usually waited in during these visits, and felt Keza’s presence before he saw her. Her arms curled around his waist, and she pressed her face into his neck. 

“I’ve missed you,” Keza said, and he turned to see her smiling at him. She was drow, a beautiful woman with eyes the color of lilac, and dark skin shaded like a violet mountain sunset. There was a reason why she was the most expensive courtesan in city. He often admired her, like he admired the fine art in his home and his desire for her beauty only ran that superficially deep. 

“It has been a while,” Essek said, turning around to take her hand. He kissed it, and she giggled girlishly, fluttering her full silver lashes at him. She lifted her fingers, letting them trail for a moment. This was a game they played often, enjoying each other’s company. Neither of them had the luxury of friends in the traditional sense as they only had competitors, and yet these moments felt oddly like cheating at the game they both played so well. 

“You’ve been busy,” Keza said with a conspiratorial whisper, before she sat at the table. Everything in the room was prepared considerately, from the table laden with rare fruits, to the bedroom with the lush bed. She poured tea for both of them, though Essek didn’t touch his cup. She took a sip, curling her toes around the edge of the chair. “I’ve heard that you have been canoodling with a _human_.” 

“Canoodling?” Essek repeated, resisting the way his mouth tried to turn up in a smile. “Now you sound like my Denmother. I shall have you know, I canoodle with no one.” 

“You are no fun, Lord Shadowhand,” Keza sighed with a pretty pout, obviously disappointed. “Is he at least pretty? I heard that humans are dreadfully ugly, but he must be pretty to have caught your attention.” 

Essek at that moment of weakness did not think of Caleb Widogast’s strikingly blue eyes, or the way that his red hair contrasted so beautifully against his exotic pale skin. Or the marks--the freckles (a word he had learned while reading up on the physiology of humans during his first week of knowing the Nien), that were dusted across his nose and cheeks. While he wasn’t thinking of any of those things, he rolled his eyes. 

“Is that what people in Rosohna concern themselves with? Rumors of my love life?” 

“Why, of course, you are one of the most eligible bachelors in the country, Lord Shadowhand. Everyone knows that. The fact you’ve avoided a marriage thus far is a miracle that the unwedded drow of all of the dens thank the Luxon for every night.” 

“There is nothing about me that makes me a good match, I am afraid I am rather dour and boring once you get past my pretty face,” Essek said, unable to help his preening. He had always been a sucker for a good compliment. 

“But what a face it is,” Keza said, violet eyes lidded as she looked at him over her cup. From her robe and undergarments she produced a piece of paper, holding it out in her slender fingers. “I believe this is what you were hoping for?” 

Essek quickly folded his fingers and curled his wrist, muttering the words for Detect Magic. In his field of sense, his mantle hummed with dunamantic magic, and Keza’s lute registered with bardic magic, but other than that there were no signs of scrying and nothing on the parchment itself. 

“Tell me,” Essek said as he opened the paper and skimmed it. It was a letter, a member of Den Mirimm. It’s contents were rather explicit, and he couldn’t help but sigh. Never his favorite form of correspondence, and he never liked pouring over love letters, but some of the most interesting codes had been hidden in them before. One could never be too careful. 

“Lady Quisa of Den VaSuun had that interesting trifle in her purse,” Keza said, “though, she is married of course. A juicy bit of gossip.” 

“That it is,” Essek said as he slid the letter into a pouch in his inner sleeve. Den VaSunn was not one of the big three dens. However, this was blackmail that Den VaSunn could utilize to shame the Skysybil’s Den. Essek did not enjoy most interden politics and also did not like the Skysybil, but, it did seem like the Lady would need some...moderate convincing. The Bright Queen needed her dens to be impregnable during the time of war, and it was his job to assure that. “Thank you.” 

“Let the Light be with you, Shadowhand. Be safe, kiss the human if he is that cute too!” 

Essek shook his head, and exited the establishment. He waited for a moment outside in the alley, seeing a shadow shift and nodding towards it. 

“My lord,” the shadow greeted. 

“Keep your Eyes on Lady Quisa of Den VaSuun, all correspondence she has make sure it ends up in your Hands,” Essek ordered the shadow. “Have surveillance posted on Lady Murian of Den Mirimm as well, update me on any movements.” 

“Should the Skysybil be informed?” 

“No,” Essek told the shadow sternly, steepling his hands in thought. “I’ll make that decision when we have more to give to her besides a hunch--”

_HELLO ESSEK! JUST WANTED TO LET YOU KNOW THAT WE ARE BACK IN THE CITY AND THAT WE WOULD LOVE TO SEE YOU. WE SAW--_

Essek flinched as the sending spell immediately interrupted his train of thought and cut off as suddenly. Jester’s voice reverberated in his brain with the cadence of a pot and pan being banged together. He did like Jester, but he didn't quite know how the Mighty Nein dealt with her boundless energy and enthusiasm on a day to day basis. Just the thought of that was enough to give him a bit of a headache. Essek held up his hand to the shadow, who shifted but remained silent. 

“Hello Jester. I am happy to hear you are safe. I shall come see you once I have completed my current business.”

The spell fizzled out, and Essek pinched the bridge of his nose, gathering his thoughts once more. His back ached fiercely, and he had been hoping to get home and have a long soak in the bath. But, a Shadowhand’s work was truly never done. 

“Update me on any developments,” Essek managed. 

“Your will shall be done, Shadowhand,” the shadow said, before disappearing into the darkness. 

Essek took a pinch of the gold dust he kept in his component pouch, drawing the sigils on his mantle before muttering the words to activate his Float spell. He moved through the districts, before coming upon the sparkling visage of the home that the Mighty Nein had named the Xhorhaus. No matter how many times he saw it, he was always amused by the giant tree, remembering how many dens had come to complain about it. It really was a lovely sight however, reminiscent of an ancient historic temple to the Wildmother. Though he did not worship that nature deity, one could always appreciate fine beautiful craftsmanship. 

He knocked on the door, and Beauregard was the one who answered it. She gave him a smile that looked like she was straining something in her face to produce. Essek tried not to be amused by that, though he failed miserably. She was honestly doing better than the first time he had met her. 

“Hey there, Essek,” Beau said as she motioned woodenly. “Would you like to come in?” 

“Of course, so long as I am not imposing,” Essek responded. 

“You, imposing, no never!” Fjord said, appearing from behind. Essek always found the half-orc to be interesting, in the way he could pull on such an easy congenial face. How he and Beauregard became friends with such disparate personalities was beyond him. “Come on in, Deucey will be cooking dinner soon if you want.” 

“I shall pass, though the offer is appreciated,” Essek said simply. Essek had learned, mostly through his interactions with them and through his reading, that the sharing of meals was of cultural familial importance in many places including the Empire and Menagerie Coast. An interesting and lovely cultural footnote to be sure, of less elegance than the weekly prayer that the drow partook in that held the same function. Without a daytime and nighttime, and not having primal sleep hours, the timing of meals these cultures dictated was superfluous. “I just came to check in with you.” 

“Essek!” Jester’s voice called from upstairs, and Essek looked up and saw that she was bare except for a bathing robe. She was currently toweling out her short midnight-blue hair. Beauregard gave a strangled noise as she came running down the stairs. “Hi Essek, it is so very veeery nice to see you!” 

She held out her arms, expecting a hug. Essek felt his eyebrow twitch, but he didn’t resist as she reached to hug him. It would be worse if he didn’t, and he didn’t feel like having the monk punch him. 

“It is...nice to see you too, Jester,” Essek said, managing his best polite face. However, she squeezed, delicate frame hiding much strength. He couldn’t help his gasp as pain shot through his bones, and he gritted his teeth, as the muscles tightened and spasmed. He extricated himself from her grasp, and steadied himself on a nearby side table. 

“Oh no! I’m sorry, did I hurt you,” Jester said fretfully, wide violet eyes scanning him as she fluttered her hands nervously. “And I don’t have any more spells today! Caduceus, do you have any more spells today?” 

“All out,” the firbolg said, appearing in the doorway. “Why? Oh--oh that’s no fun.” 

“It’s...not your fault,” Essek managed through the pain. “I just have to wait for it to pass.” 

“We have a hot tub upstairs, a good soak might help you out with that,” Caduceus offered. 

Usually, there would be nothing less appealing to Essek then getting naked in a house with a bunch of mercenaries and utilizing their hot tub. Essek did have his own house, and his own servants who were paid to draw up baths with his favorite oils and soaps. This was all besides the fact that he was currently showing the Mighty Nein weakness. He didn’t do weakness, not in front of anyone. Weaknesses were shame, and shame was always exploited. If he was patient it would pass and he could pass it off as nothing. 

But he had been through a long day of first dealing with prisoners, and then dealing with politics, and then dealing with the war, and then dealing with his spies. Essek was exhausted down to the bone, and his back hurt, and he was feeling impatient. 

“Very well, I shall take advantage of your hospitality then,” Essek sighed, managing to straighten up through another pulse of pain. “We’ll discuss your excursion after.” 

“I’ll make drinks! Nott, stop whatever fucking tinkering your doing and help me with drinks!” Beauregard shouted down the steps, throwing open the door and banging on it. 

“Drinks?” Nott’s shrill voice echoed up the steps. “What drinks?!” 

“No, no drinks,” Essek said. “Just...the hot tub will suffice.” 

With some reassurance, Essek found his way up the stairs, thankful to the Luxon for his flotation magic. He made it to the cubby where Jester had promised was an area they kept towels and baskets for clothes. Essek laboriously divulged himself of his clothing, and grabbed a towel. He heard the bubbling of the hot tub, felt a few wisps of warmth cutting through the bracing cold and caress his skin. 

Essek opened the door, and Caleb stared back at him. 

_Oh Light give me strength_ , Essek prayed, hoping that his flush wasn’t visible. There was skin. Caleb’s skin. Essek wasn’t an idiot, he had known that Caleb had skin. But that wasn’t the point because it was visible skin, not hidden under the layers that normally bundled him up. The warmth from the hot tub did such a wonderful thing to Caleb’s skin, imbuing it with a lush rosy hue not unlike pink quartz. And there were freckles on Caleb’s skin too, and more red hair on his arms and his chest. Humans had hair on their bodies, this had been a section of the human physiology book. Like animals, huddling together for warmth, some other drow had cackled during his schooling. It was supposed to make them grotesque, but all it did was twist something low in Essek’s belly. 

Is he pretty? Keza’s voice echoed in his ears. 

Shut up, Essek ordered the traitorous thoughts. I am unaffected, I am the Shadowhand, lord of all spies and assassins. This is all just a physiological response, I can rise above it. 

“Um, ah, shiesse, I didn’t--Jester didn’t say you would be here so soon or…” Caleb began while cringing. The familiar he kept gave a plaintive meow from where it sat on the edge of the tub. 

“Forgive me, I didn't mean to intrude,” Essek said, his face surely a study of cool consideration. “Jester also didn’t mention that anyone else was partaking in the hot tub.” 

Based on the flash of murderous intent on Caleb’s face ( enough to send a pleasant tingle down Essek’s spine but he could unpack that later) that had probably been the girl’s aim. Clever, Essek had to give it to her. If it hadn’t been him dealing with the aftermath, he would have applauded her keen maneuvering. Not many could take him by surprise. 

“I can get out,” Caleb offered, eyes looking everywhere but Essek’s body. It made him feel better to know that Caleb was affected by him. Good, Essek thought. Better that than be at a disadvantage. If he played it like this, he could act like this had been his plan all along and could trick himself out of his embarrassment. 

“No need, I’ll only be in for a few minutes,” Essek said, easing himself into the water. He was about two arm lengths away from Caleb at this point, enough to preserve propriety, but also close enough that Caleb hopefully didn’t read it as avoidance of him. The heat was immediately soothing on his back, and out of his mouth came a particularly indecent moan that Essek really didn’t mean and couldn’t control, and Essek began to wonder if it was possible for him to drown in the hot tub. He had read somewhere that it was possible to drown in a few measly inches of water. That seemed like a preferable option than continuing to live. 

When Essek managed to look back at Caleb, his ears were bright red. Maybe they could drown together. That seemed oddly comforting. 

“Ah...long day?” Caleb offered...what did the book of Empire sayings say again? An olive branch? 

“Very,” Essek said noncommittally, looking at some of the bars of soaps that were held by the edge of the tub. Oils and soaps were in beautiful glass bottles as well. He suddenly saw Caleb offering a bar to him. 

“I prefer this one,” Caleb said, having moved closer to offer the bar. His hands were larger than he remembered somehow, his nails smudged beneath with soot. Essek took it from his hand, trying not to touch any skin but his fingertips tingled anyways. 

Essek rubbed the soap in his hands, building a lather. Immediately he was hit with the scent of blackcurrants and cypress wood, a heady delicious scent. He set the bar on the side in its dish, before running the soap up and down his arms, and across his chest. He tried not to think of the fact that he was now sharing Caleb’s scent and the inherent eroticism of that. He reached to get his back, but immediately hissed as the pain flared up again. He stopped, fingers digging into the side of the hot tub, the pain there doing nothing to distract from his spine. 

“Shadowhand? Are you alright?” Caleb asked, and Essek felt a featherlite touch on his shoulder. 

“Just...Essek, for now. Seems strange to refer to my title when I’m naked,” Essek noted. “It’s just my Luxon damned back.” 

“Are you injured?” Caleb asked, and Essek looked back at him, rubbing his back. 

“When I was young and impulsive I was injured trying to escape the guard...and to answer the next question I see in your gaze, I did get it healed...but I had waited two weeks to see a healer, and by that time there is only so much you can do.” 

“Your den waited two weeks?” Caleb asked. 

“I was brought into Den Theylss, this happened before that, when I was sixteen.” 

“Sixteen hundred?” 

“Now you are being facetious, no. Sixteen as in ten and six years old. I was sixteen...once, a while ago. Surely that is a sentiment you can relate to?” 

“Yes, I do,” Caleb said with a mournful look. “You do foolish things when you are that young.” 

“Yes,” Essek sighed, “yes you do. And you continue to pay for it.”

Essek leaned on the edge of the tub, working to slowly curve and straighten his spine to stretch it. It didn’t help. All he could do was sit there and wait for the warmth to ease it enough so he could go. He didn’t forget Caleb was there, he didn’t think it was possible to do so considering his presence was like the beating sun that only once in a blue moon appeared in the sky. It tingled on his skin with a strange intensity that was almost impossible to ignore. 

“If--” Caleb’s voice caught on a strange edge. It was rough and heavy with his accent, the accent of the foreign lords and dirt poor farmers who all wanted the drow dead. And that accent should have been putting his body’s very inconvenient reaction on ice, but all it did was make this all the more...delicious. “If you’d like...I can try rubbing it out?” 

I’m canoodling, Essek thought. I’m already canoodling, how much worse can this make it? 

“If you wouldn’t mind,” Essek said, looking back at Caleb with his best smirk. Caleb looked like he was about to choke on his own tongue, but then Essek immediately paid for it with the sensation of Caleb’s hands on his back. 

His hands were scorchingly hot, even hotter than the water. He had strong fingers, with callouses that dragged on his skin in a way that raised goosebumps. He pressed against the sore divot in his lower back and Essek nearly jumped out of his skin because it felt so good, rubbing out that terrible knot of pain that never quite went away. He ended up half melted against the side of the tub, arms cool in the night, dazedly staring at the familiar who was purring up a storm next to him. 

This was worse, this was so much worse, because all Essek wanted to do was turn around and kiss this man silly. Essek found it in him to look back and met Caleb’s gaze. The blue of his eyes was dark, and sweltering and dilated. His lips were parted, and the water trailed down his neck so deliciously that Essek found himself leaning forward and--

“Are you two alright up there?!” Nott the Brave’s voice from the side startled them both. With an undignified movement, Essek jerked and smacked his forehead right into Caleb. Both of them yelped, Caleb grasping his head, and Essek grasped the side of his face (trying not to think about the scruff of his beard or the soft heat of his cheeks). 

“Oh Luxon--yes, we’re fine!” Essek shouted at Nott before returning to Caleb. “Gods above and below, I’m sorry Caleb.” 

“It’s--alright,” Caleb said, a laugh wrenching free from his lips. “Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine,” Essek said rather dumbly even though he felt about five miles away from alright. Confused, aroused, infatuated, annoyed? All sounded a bit more true to life, but he was the Shadowhand and the Shadowhand was always alright. 

“We should get out...are you joining us for dinner?” Caleb asked, hopefully. 

Essek opened his mouth to refuse, but watching Caleb exit the water, all Essek could do was follow.

* * *

“Is there anything else you require, my lord?” 

Essek looked up from his reading and the wine that he had just received from his servant and shook his head. The servant bowed deep, and then exited the room. It was almost at that moment that the mirror in his room illuminated. The Bright Queen’s visage shimmered upon its reflective surface, and Essek bowed his head respectfully. 

Essek gave his daily report to the Queen, who took it all in with only occasional comments or requests for clarification. After he completed his report, finishing on his business with the Mighty Nein and a summary of their most recent exploits, the Bright Queen laced her fingers together thoughtfully. 

“I gave you to them to be their steward, Shadowhand, and so far you have done a remarkable job. As always, you excel in every regard.” 

“Everything I do, I do to be of service to you,” Essek promised her. 

“And great service at that, though I wonder at the personal cost,” the Bright Queen commented, the jab stabbing Essek. Though he betrayed nothing on his face, that much he was sure of. 

“No personal cost, your majesty. I live to serve you,” Essek said. 

“Do not get too attached, Essek,” the Bright Queen warned, before the mirror’s image faded and left Essek staring into his own eyes. He sighed, taking a generous sip from his own glass. 

_I think, perhaps, the advice comes too late. After all, even I have my own urges to quell._ Essek thought, and then settled down his glass.


	2. In Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "With some reassurance, Essek found his way up the stairs, thankful to the Luxon for his flotation magic. He made it to the cubby where Jester had promised was an area they kept towels and baskets for clothes. Essek laboriously divulged himself of his clothing, and grabbed a towel. He heard the bubbling of the hot tub, felt a few wisps of warmth cutting through the bracing cold and caress his skin. Essek opened the door, and Caleb stared back at him."
> 
> Essek Thelyss wasn't always Essek Theylss, but Essek always did seem to find himself in trouble. Good thing too, because trouble is what he is good at.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....I wasn’t going to do this. I was just going to be a one hit wonder in this fandom...but the fanfic bug has bit me again and demanded hot wizard hanky-panky...so that’s what you are going to get goddamnit. Oh...and hot wizard tragic backstory...but mostly hanky-panky.

"Mother," Essek greeted, bowing his head in deference to her. Lady Mathulsda Theyless, the Denmother of Den Theyless looked on at him with her silvered gaze. She reminded him often of one of the statues in the Marble Tomes, austere and yet lovely, cool as stone and yet harsh in her composure. "You called for me?"

"Essek," she greeted, turning her face up to kiss his cheek. The brush of her lips was cold and impersonal. "Come, sit." 

Essek did as she wished, sitting in the chair next to her. The Denmother's hand flicked out the bell, calling for the servants. The first servant appeared in a flash with the wine, while the second appeared with charcuterie board. Hilta and Mere, Essek recalled their names easy, both were favored servants of his Denmother. One poured the wine, the other arranged the silverware and plates. Then they both curtseyed elegantly and were out of sight, just as his Mother prefered. 

"A current favorite of mine," Mother said, plucking her glass from the elegantly arranged table. Essek echoed the motion, swirling it and taking an appreciative sniff. "I find the white from this vineyard has such a lovely acidity, and the taste of apples it leaves is quite divine with the rabbit terrine." 

"I suspect this vineyard is your current pet project?" Essek asked, mostly to be polite. Essek already knew the answer. He knew everything that happened in the Den, and his Mother knew it too. This was just another game in the many layers of the game they played. 

"I always love a good project, it is because I am such a kind and giving person," Mother said with a long-suffering sigh, as if Essek could never truly understand the reach of her benevolence. “Truly, without my consideration it would have gone under. It really would have been a crying shame.” 

"You bought them out from right under Den Sedern's nose, through a secret channel," Essek pointed out to her, not willing to indulge in this particular savior fantasy of hers. 

"It was hardly from under their nose. The son was so lovely, you know, and so understanding," Mother said with an imperious sip. "He seemed to enjoy the transaction well enough. Hilta and Mere certainly earned their extra wages." 

"Sending the help to seduce a farmer," Essek said, unable to help the way his lips curled in disgust. "That's low, even for you." 

"It's all politics. Den Theyless cannot be outbid by some secondhand Den, even in something as minor as business interests. It would make us look weak. We also cannot be seen playing a game with some secondhand house, others might think it puts us on their level. Therefore we use the advantages we have," Mother said simply, giving him a look. "But you are still new at this. I can see how it might be concerning to you, though the trading of one's body for profit should not be all that surprising to you of all people, Essek." 

"What is that supposed to imply?" Essek asked, his tone light, but inside he felt something grate against his well-worn polite mask. 

"If you desire intimacy, I don't care where you get it from. But those Empire spies? Really? I would have thought I had taught you better than that." 

"Intimacy? I have not been intimate with any of them. The Bright Queen's order was to observe the Mighty Nein, ingratiate myself to them and ingratiate them to the Empire. All of this and more in order to suss out their allegiance." 

"And you have done an outstanding job," Mother stated before her nose wrinkled up in disgust. "I've heard you've especially ingratiated yourself to the human wizard." 

Essek didn't clench his teeth, or shout, or stamp his feet, or hiss that she didn't know what she was talking about. Instead, Essek smiled. 

"I learned all of my tricks from you," he stated. He took a sip from his own glass. "This really is a lovely wine. Well worth the effort I should think, though, lacking a certain personal touch that you are known for. I’m sure Lord Densil would agree with me, though Father may not." 

That was mostly a low blow. Everyone knew that Denmothers had absolute authority, and their marriages--though it was a sacred eternal bond in the eyes of the Luxon--did not bind them to one partner. It was still a sore spot. Especially since Mother hadn't yet disclosed the affair to Father. That in itself was a bad sign. 

“Wretched brat,” Mother snapped, her eyes bright with anger. Essek just continued to smile placidly in the face of her rage. 

“I care not for your personal affairs, Mother. Just as I should hope you don’t care about mine.” 

“Is that a threat?” Mother asked, lifting her glass for another sip, eyeing him with an unreadable expression. 

“No more than in any other conversation we have, Mother,” Essek told her with a wave, as he took a sandwich from the platter. "I really do value and enjoy these little chats we have." 

"You are my child, so take this piece of advice. Go make some acceptable playmates that will bode well in court, not ruffians and spies from the other side of the conflict," Mother said as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "I worry that your lack of meaningful socialization with your own peers is what is causing the lack of judgement." 

"I am not in my first decade. Please don't call them playmates," Essek said lightly, trying not to fume over this blatant infantilism. He hated when she did this, and that's why she did this. It was a cheap and easy button of his to push. 

"Then get married!" Mother chastised. 

"I shall do what I please in that regard, Mother," Essek informed her cooly. 

"Stubborn," Mother scoffed. "It'll be your undoing one day."

"Like you said, I learned from the best."

* * *

"I suppose a question about the meeting with your Denmother is in order?" Skysybil asked, eyeing him sideways. They were both standing in the throne room, awaiting the meeting with the head of the Echo knights. Though they still did not like each other, there was at least an ounce of respect they gave each other. This much, allowed Essek to be somewhat honest with her. 

"She called me a brat, and interrogated me about my relationships," Essek said, folding his hands within his sleeves. "So as you can imagine, it was a normal visit." 

"Well, take comfort in the fact that you are indeed the most insufferable brat that I have ever had the misfortune of knowing in my long storied life," Skysybil scoffed. "But that's what makes you an effective Shadowhand." 

"I shall take your compliment into consideration," Essek said with his best saccharine smile. 

"What relationships was she interrogating you about? You have no friends," Skysybil observed. 

"I have friends," Essek said with a sidelong glare. 

"Your employees all love you, this we all know. But you are not friends with them. You are aloof and testy." 

Essek was about to open his mouth to argue with her, when the Echo Knights arrived and the meeting began in full swing. It was the usual updates on the movements along the border, and the generals were extremely interested. However, Essek already knew the pertinent information. A shadow left him a report on each general's movement every day. This was all a formality for Essek, which allowed his thoughts to wander just a bit. 

Friends. He supposed the Skysybil and his Denmother were both right. He didn't have friends, or even casual acquaintances. It only annoyed him when other people pointed it out. 

It reminded him of his _birth mother_. Or rather, it made him miss her. To her, he hadn't been wretched or aloof or insufferable, he had been precocious and shy. His face wasn't just one more advantage to levy in his favor, but a thing to be kissed softly and told how much like his father he looked. Even if Essek had grumbled about it he wouldn't have moved away. His power hadn’t been feared and talent coveted, but instead it was a gift from the Luxon. 

He didn't like to think of his birth mother. He had only had her for fifteen years...less time then he had been in Den Theyless. Rationally Essek also knew that the bonds of a den claim were stronger than that of blood and birth. If his mother had lived to see his consecution or initiation into Theyless, she would have been the one to prepare him in the ceremonial clothes and then gave him to them without a second thought. Even if she hadn't, which she wouldn't have, his mother would have been powerless to stop it. But...she had loved him. It had made losing her unbearable, and it had made him reckless and unafraid. Made things like jumping off a roof to escape have little consequence, for Essek was the only one who cared about what happened to Essek. 

_They hate me_ , Essek had sobbed once, burying his face in his mother's thin, patched skirt. The other children who had refused to speak to him, pretended he was invisible, had been too much. They had been his friends, and then had decided he was different, and Essek hadn’t known what he had done to make them think that but it had been like a death sentence. 

_As long as you show them who you really are, they'll grow to love you as I do_ , his mother had said as she ran her fingers through his hair delicately. It was sweet, gentle advice. She had required so little of him and loved him so deeply, so fiercely, so completely in return. It hadn’t mattered that she fed him her crusts of bread and she went to bed with a hollowness in her belly, or people slipped coins into her hands as they left the hovel while Essek sat outside and waited. None of it mattered for when he had learned to make lights dance or could cast prestidigitation to clean their battered bowls, she had been so proud. He had been her blessing, not her burden. 

But no matter what he did, no one else saw what she had seen in him. They had seen something else. It hadn’t been long after that, when he was standing over the corpse of the first man he had killed with a vampiric touch, he realized that his mother had to have been the exception. He hadn’t felt anything besides a cool sort of satisfaction, knowing that he was more powerful than the man who had tried to kill him for the few coins in his pocket. The others had all been right about him in the end. He had just thanked the Luxon that his mother hadn’t had to see him that way. He was grateful that he could live a life knowing that he had never broken his mother’s heart. 

Essek didn’t need friends, he also didn’t need anyone else to love him. He had the trust of the Bright Queen, which had to count for more than any of the rest combined. And Essek had once had love, even if he didn’t have it anymore. It had been a precious gift that he would remember and cherish for the rest of eternity, and he thanked the Luxon for bestowing it upon him...no matter how brief it had been. The strange ache of loneliness he felt on occasion was nothing but a response he could rise above, precipitated by the Mighty Nein and being integrated into their routines. 

They functioned similarly to a Den in some ways. There were roles assigned to each member, responsibilities that each worked to achieve. They had no Denmother, per se, but the analogy didn’t need to align perfectly. But in other ways, their actions were alien to Essek. They weren’t like one of the high ranking Dens, there was no vying for privileges or levying of secrets for profit, no incessant backstabbing or racing to the top to try to earn the favor of the Denmother, to be named heir apparent, to be given honor by the Bright Queen. (Though they had long since been freed from the shackles of their service to the Spider Queen, many aspects of internal politics still were soaked of Her influence, that was part of the reason the Shadowhand existed for the Bright Queen.) Essek had no personal experience with family-Dens, the dens of the middle and low class drow who lived as generations of families. So he figured the Mighty Nien may be more closely related to that sort of structure. 

Or...they could all just be friends. They didn’t close ranks, they invited people in the fold as easy as breathing. He had seen that with the golden aasimar girl they had brought to their home, or in the stories he was told about a gnome-girl with twigs in her hair, or a half-dragon sorceress, an ill-fated kobold, or a wizened cleric who belonged to the ranks. He had even experienced it first hand with their incessant invitations. 

Perhaps he was just being soft on them, for offering something so easily that had eluded Essek for so long, even if he couldn’t personally indulge in it. The panic that he had felt after realizing how rude he had been to them, it was all because he hadn’t wanted to lose their trust. There couldn’t be any other explanation for why he had been so relieved when they had accepted his apology. His mission from the Bright Queen was absolute. He would aim to maintain a respectful distance...no more...whatever that had happened with Caleb that he had refused to think about. The moment in the bath had been simply a lapse in judgement due to the desire for intimacy. Essek was stronger than that, stronger then giving in to base instincts. He was strong and had no weaknesses because he had no intimate relationships that could be exploited. If he considered them his friends...or even more...that was a huge target that could be used to manipulate him. Besides, he was no fool. There were no records in the Empire of a man by the name of Caleb Widogast, and based off of what he knew this man was the most dangerous one of the bunch to be close to. 

Essek thought on this throughout the rest of the twilight hours, pacing furiously in his office until he had worked up a cold sweat. Angry with himself, and with the echo of his heartbeat beginning to pound a dull ache in his spine, he called his servant to draw up a bath. The top of the water swirled with the fragrant oil, peppermint and lemongrass. He didn’t wait for it to cool, or mind the tub of cold water, but instead got in. He hissed between his teeth at the heat, punishing enough to still his thoughts and distract from his back. It was too hot. 

The echo of Caleb’s hands on his back making him bite the inside of his mouth. He could feel the fingers brushing his skin, scorching him like licks of fire. He could sense Caleb’s breath on his shoulder, raising goosebumps on his skin. 

_Stop it_ , Essek ordered his unruly thoughts, his nails digging into the edges of the tub. This heat wasn’t Caleb’s, the scent of the water wasn’t Caleb’s, and there certainly wasn’t anyone else in the tub that would remind him of Caleb. If he was subjected to this every time he ended up taking a bath then he would be at a loss. Better to desensitize now. 

He didn’t even know why he was all out of sorts. All he wanted was to make this go away--

That can be easily remedied, came the voice from the twisted clinical part of his brain. The Shadowhand part of his brain. How long has it been since you have had a tryst? Since you've allowed yourself to have even the most basic of physical relief? Of course you are reacting like this, it would have happened because of anyone. Caleb isn't special. Do this quickly, get it out of your system. 

He didn’t want to, he didn’t want to admit this weakness. It was because he was young, and too emotional, and too much of everything. By doing this, he was just proving his Denmother and everyone else right about him. But by the time he wrapped his fingers around his cock, he was already half-hard. He shuddered as he stroked himself to full, impatient and angry and his blood running far too hot in his veins. It wasn’t enough, he thought, tensing desperately. He wanted more, he wanted--

“Essek,” Caleb sighed into his skin, lips brushing his shoulder in the barest press of a kiss. 

“Oh Luxon,” Essek gasped, letting his head tip back, the harsh grip loosening until it was something sweet and caring and everything. He felt the tender stroke of Caleb’s fingers on the hollow of his hip. 

“Show me, Essek,” Caleb bid him, voice filled with warmth. “Don’t hide from me.” 

A moan caught in his clenched teeth, with no input from his own mind his legs spread further apart. Essek felt light headed as hands trailed up his flank soothingly as he raced closer and closer to the edge as fingers dipped in oil reached in--thicker and rougher than his, Caleb’s hands on his body he couldn’t forget it…he had wanted to forget it! 

“I want you to tend to me, teach me what it is you desire” Caleb whispered, mouth eager as it traced the curve of his ear, making him twitch. 

His own nail scraped his inner thigh, as a punishment--or a reminder. Which one Essek couldn’t even remember as sweat broke out along his hairline. He was rocking into his hand, the hand that Caleb had touched, and he had tainted it--but Caleb wanted to see this and Essek wanted Caleb to see him, Essek wanted. 

“Nngh--!” 

He couldn’t even brace as he came, the pleasure wracking his whole body with release. Hot, dewy, and full became numb and cool. He was laying on the floor of the bathroom, shivering in the moonlight and breathing fast. 

_Ugh_ , he couldn’t help but think, throwing an arm over his eyes. He was in trouble.

* * *

Essek was finishing his paperwork when Beauregard cleared her throat. Essek looked up at her, inspecting her expression. Beauregard wore discontent like her armor, and threw her snark out like a weapon. A bad mood was a constant, dynamic, and evolving state for her. Though it didn’t always make her pleasant to be around, he enjoyed her no nonsense straight to the punch attitude. He figured more people could use a little more of that in their lives, though she seemed to have cornered the market. 

“So, hot boi, when are you ever gonna let us into the damn library?” Beauregard demanded shortly, kicking her feet up onto the table. Essek had half a mind to chastise her for her behavior, fairly certain that it wasn’t customary in the Empire, but also enjoyed not having to duck under a punch. Besides, he was fairly sure that people she cared about far more than him had probably tried to speak to her about her behavior and failed, why should she care about what he thought?

“I didn’t know you found me so aesthetically pleasing, I’m flattered,” Essek said as he closed his book. He summoned his pocket dimension, placing it within, before closing it with a swirl of his fingers. 

"Now you are just showing off," Beau said with a signature scowl. 

"I certainly am not, in fact, I am merely absorbing your compliment." 

“Come on dude, you know that you are hot. Everyone knows you are hot. Even I know you are hot, you know, for a dude. And I'm not even into dudes," Beau stated. "That fake modest thing you are doing isn't cute." 

"I am the picture of modesty," Essek said as he took a sip from his tea cup. "Caduceus, this is a lovely blend." 

"Aw, that's so nice of you to say," the firbolg hummed, sticking his head out from the kitchen before ducking back in. 

"Want a shot with it?" Nott asked, holding up her impressively large and shiny flask. Within it sloshed liquor of a questionable color as she poured in about two shots worth to her own mug. 

"I will abstain, but I appreciate it," Essek said with a bow of his head. 

"He's never gonna let you in the library, you see how he just totally deflected you," Nott snickered. Beau opened her mouth, snapped it shut, and then shot up. 

"You are totally right, not cool Essek!" Beau nearly whined. Essek blinked at her childish tone and Nott's deft ascertainment of the situation. She was cunningly, and unlike most goblins he had dealings with. It gave him pause. 

"It's because he's a spy," Nott pointed out, taking a generous gulp of her flask and chasing it down with her tea-cocktail. He had never seen anyone chase a shot with another drink, but there was a first time for everything. "Don't feel bad for being dense." 

"I'm not dense motherfucker," Beau said, though her voice was tinged with humor. 

"Sure you're not," Nott scoffed with a conniving expression. "But speaking of…I have a question for you Essek." 

Essek inclined his head. 

"How do you think Caleb is doing...with his studies?" Nott asked, her tone sweet and trying very hard to be innocuous. Essek couldn't help but feel his lips pull at his mouth in a half-smile. "It is too bad he's shopping right now, but I know he'll be excited to see you. Are you planning on teaching him again today?" 

"Caleb is a talented student," Essek said. "He picks up the minutiae of the arcane easily, and doesn't falter where many beginners might. He has a certain reverence for the material, which drives him to succeed." 

"Oh, I see, so you enjoy teaching him?" Nott asked hopefully. 

"I do not do anything that I do not desire to do," Essek informed her, taking a sip from his tea cup. "But of course, I do enjoy teaching him."

"But do you enjoy teaching him or is that cryptic wizard language for fucking," Beau asked bluntly. Essek couldn't help rapidly blinking at the sudden turn in conversation. Honestly, it was so jarring that he couldn't even react. 

"Beau! You don't just ask people if they are fucking!" Nott hissed before her eyes darted to Essek. "I mean...are you?" 

"And you said I'm rude! You don't just get to piggyback on my question after telling me off!" Beau demanded with a jabbed finger. 

"Oh come on! Now I'm curious!" Nott screeched. 

Essek settled his cup down on the table, looking between the two ladies. At the sound, they stopped their badgering and began to stare at him. 

"We are not, as you so eloquently put it, fucking," Essek said simply. "It would be a compromise to my position, as well as be inappropriate for many other reasons." 

"Are you like, super old or something?" Beauregard asked. 

"I'm young, actually. I'm only one hundred and forty." 

"Wait...a hundred is young for elves?" 

"We claim adulthood at one hundred, yes. I would be...well, equivalently I would be in my twenties in human years, though it isn't exactly a direct comparison and I have lived for over a hundred years so--" 

"Holy shit! I thought Dairon was...like, old and wizened. She's my age! What?" Beauregard demanded. 

"She's good friends with...our...cleaning lady," Nott said, cringing all the while. 

"Of course," Essek said, though of course he made a note to himself to investigate that little thread later. 

"I think he means like, moral reasons," Nott stated. 

"You not into dick or something?" Beau asked. "I mean, I can relate but, you sort of strike me as someone who's into dick. Caduceus, is not being into dick a moral thing?"

"I don't think that has anything to do with morals. I think it's more...the body," Caduceus offered from the other room, low timber carrying through easily. "The Wildmother doesn't care, I don't see why other Gods would." 

"Beau! You don't just ask people if they're into dick! I mean, uh, unless--" 

"Considering we just had a very similar conversation all of a minute ago, I will ask that we please stop this line of questioning," Essek said, holding up his hand. 

"Right...right," Nott said with a grave nod. 

It was on that note that the front door rang with the bells. 

"Hey guys," Fjord greeted, looking somewhat exhausted. "Oh, hello Shadowhand. How are you?" 

"Very well, and you."

"Doing fine, Caleb will be in shortly, he had to go pick something up." 

He offered his hand in a shake, and Essek took it. Jester danced in behind him, tail swishing as she did. 

"Hallo Essek!" Jester chirped, grasping his hand. Her eyes sparkled like she had a delightful secret she just couldn't wait to tell him, as her mouth curled on a charming little smile. "And how are you doing today?" 

"Very well, thank you. I hear you went shopping."

"Oh I found the most wonderful bakery! They have these little caramel tarts that are shaped like spiders and bugs! It's so very creeeepy," Jester said with a coquettish little wiggle. "Would you like some? We can have them with tea!" 

"Thank you, but no thank you. I will let Uska know of your compliment." 

"You know the lady who runs the bakery?" Jester asked excitedly. 

"I make it a habit to know all that my Queen prefers. She patronizes that bakery as well." 

"You are very thoughtful Essek." 

"It is my job to be the most thoughtful person in the city." 

It was at that moment that Caleb appeared, a package cradled to his chest and his familiar draped around his shoulders. His head turned to the side, and the familiar butted its face against his, catching his cheek with the side of its face. The action was so tender that it was arresting and he felt foolish for burning with jealousy over a familiar of all things. Except he wasn’t jealous, not at all, Essek reminded himself. 

“Forgive me for my tardiness,” Caleb apologized, somewhat out of breath. His hair was tousled from the wind and barely held back by his hair-tie, and his cheeks and the tip of his nose were ruddied by the cold weather. Caleb was always disheveled, but there was something particularly provincially charming about this picture. 

“It is fine, no harm done,” Essek said as he rose from his seat. “Feel free to get settled, and we’ll begin our lesson for today.” 

He cast a pointed look to Beau and Nott, who both looked suspiciously in other directions as if they had no clue why he would be annoyed with them. He went to Caleb’s study, where he prepared the scroll he had brought for the day as well as the materials necessary for casting. Caleb entered the room, closing the door delicately as if to keep from disturbing Essek. The familiar plodded into the room before jumping up on the desk and taking residence on the pillow that was placed there.

Essek explained the spell and the use, before giving Caleb time to copy the spell into his worn spell book. Caleb always tapped his quill three times before he used it on the lip of the inkwell, and his penmanship was nearly flawless in its execution of the runes. Essek pretended to bide his time with pursuing the stacks of books but instead he was caught in the way Caleb’s dark long eyelashes caught on the candlelight, or how sometimes he would mind his lip as he seemingly considered something. The others came up, stating that they were going to visit a nearby tavern for dinner, and then took off without Caleb even lifting his head from his work. 

He was considering the next rune with particular focus, and Essek leaned beside him. He noticed, for a moment, Caleb’s shoulders tense. Essek noted the scent of blackcurrant beneath the soot. 

“Are you having any trouble?” 

“No, it’s just that this rune is very different,” Caleb said, tracing the swirl upon the page with a deft motion. Essek followed the movement of his fingers, of his hands closely. 

“It’s a more recent development. The rune itself has its basis in Old Undercommon,” Essek explained, taking his hand and moving it through the geometric pattern of the center. “You’ll often see that with new Dunamantic magic, the use of Old Undercommon as basis.” 

“Why that?” Caleb asked, tracing the pattern after Essek with his beautiful hands. He felt his throat strangely dry out. 

_I touched myself thinking of your hands last night_ , came the intrusive not at all welcome conceit. 

“A reclamation of our past,” Essek said instead. “A very interesting cultural phenomenon at the moment, mostly caused by the war. A desire to design our past around the plan of the Luxon for us, and by doing so, allowing people to have pride in the collective history of the Dynasty despite our grave past mistakes.” 

“And do you believe that?” Caleb asked, looking at him. His eyes were a powdery blue, soft and curious and shining brightly in the lowlight. 

“The Luxon blessed and raised our Queen, but it is impossible to know the will of the gods,” Essek said as he sat back down. “Though, I do not believe in rewriting mistakes, that means you do not have to learn from them. Learning from one’s mistakes is one of the most valuable things that life has to offer. For example, it is important to grapple with the fact that the drow were once servants to the Spider Queen, and to know we rose above that through the effort of the Bright Queen and countless others. Though, of course, I cannot relate as I never make mistakes.” 

“That I do not believe,” Caleb said with a strangely melancholic smile. 

“Believe what you’d like.” 

“Smug,” Caleb said, more to himself than to Essek, with a fond smile. He said it like Essek’s smugness was a good thing, like he liked it. And why wouldn’t he? There was plenty that Essek liked about Caleb, his hands, the way the hollow of his throat looked bathed in soft light, how when his blue eyes were focused they were like the hottest of flame--

Caleb crashed against him like a wave of motion. Whatever Essek had imagined when he thought of kissing Caleb was struck away because this was so much better. His mouth nearly scalded his as he moved against him, Essek finally buried his fingers in Caleb’s hair and found it soft and so easy to grab but he wanted to touch more, to explore more of the skin that had been branded to the inside of his mind--

“Godsver--get this off!” Caleb snapped impatiently, between kisses and trying to yank the clasp of his mantle. 

“If you ask nicely,” Essek purred, pulling the buttons of Caleb’s shirt, sure that he popped a few in his attempt to taste more of Caleb’s skin. 

“Please,” Caleb begged, kissing Essek again, his bruising kiss gentling on the request. “Oh Gods, please let me touch you.” 

“Of course, since you’ve asked so nicely,” Essek said, undoing the internal hook and letting it fall off his shoulders. In the moment were Caleb let it fall, he felt so cold, but immediately it was replaced by the hot press of their bodies together. It was strange, because without his flotation spell he was a whisper shorter than Caleb, and it was so arousing to have Caleb look down at him with such desire. Though the urgency was tempered, only when Caleb saw Essek’s back-brace. “Ah...for my back. It helps support and reduces the pain…” 

“Would it hurt you, to take it off?” Caleb asked, nipping at Essek’s ear and making him shiver, peppering kisses upon his neck and shoulder. 

“Mm...perhaps,” Essek said, not willing to lie. He wanted to fuck Caleb, not be debilitated by pain. But at the same time it was hard to think of the consequences because he wanted this so badly. “If we are in a position that puts pressure on my spine.” 

“Then we shall be mindful, ja?” Caleb said, tossing his pants aside, letting Essek soak in the sight of them. Really, they were lovely. 

“I suppose we must,” Essek sighed against Caleb’s mouth, as Caleb tugged them into his bedroom. He didn’t want to be mindful, he wanted to be as reckless and as young as he felt, but Essek supposed this wasn’t a perfect world. Besides, Caleb’s hands on him felt so good that he could forget almost everything. 

Their bodies were pressed together then, impatient and yearning for more touch, more heat, more everything. The slick delicious grind as Caleb moved against Essek, and Essek parted his legs for him. Caleb whimpered into an open-mouthed kiss as Essek, curled his legs around his waist, hooking him and bringing him closer. Essek’s fingers caught on scars and divots in his skin, mapping Caleb’s body so he could remember this. Remember this, Essek told himself sternly. Remember him. 

“Essek,” Caleb gasped against Essek’s shoulder, and Essek tightened his grip around them. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” Essek groaned, hurtling towards the edge just as quickly. 

Caleb groaned and buried his head against Essek’s shoulder, body shuddering with release. And it was because of Essek, and that was enough to make him lightheaded and proud. Caleb peppered Essek’s face with languid kisses that trailed down until he took Essek into his mouth. It would have been embarrassing, just how quickly Caleb managed to undo him. But how could he not be undone, considering the way Caleb’s half-lidded eyes burned into him, with how satisfied and unhurried he looked? 

His back arched as his body gave in to its desires, the pulse of pain being chased by the throes of pleasure. He was left boneless, sweating, and completely content. Caleb shifted next to him, laying down with a huff. Essek traced the curve of his shoulders, noting the marks he had left there. Mine, he thought. Mine. 

“Here,” Essek said as he motioned and flicked his fingers, casting prestidigitation. He sat up, stretching, grateful to longer be sticky...though it had been a pleasant sticky. Caleb was laying on his belly, hugging a pillow, and looking up at him with a soft, admiring expression that made him shiver. It was so similar to the one he had given when his mouth had been on his cock. 

“Truly, the way you cast is elegant,” Caleb said, reaching his hand out as if to trace the motion. Essek caught it, holding his large hand in his own, before kissing Caleb’s palm. Caleb’s intake of breath was more than satisfactory. 

“Just the way I cast? Widogast, I am surprised and disappointed with you, there is nothing I do that is not elegant,” Essek said with a preening smile as he sat up. 

“That I can believe,” Caleb sighed, fingers tracing up Essek’s thigh. Essek hummed in agreement. 

“I suppose we must get dressed again,” Essek said as Caleb pressed a kiss to his knee, and then to his thigh, fingers smoothing over his skin in such a delightful way as he pulled up from where he was lying. 

“Yes, though, I’m sure it would delight Jester to find us...so indisposed,” Caleb chuckled, pressing a kiss to Essek’s cheek. 

“Don’t remind me of your friends right now,” Essek said with a roll of his eyes. 

“They bother you...but it’s because they want for you to be their friend as well,” Caleb pointed out. 

“Is that what we are? Friends?” Essek asked, eyebrow raised. “I wasn’t aware you fuck your friends. Is that common practice in the Empire?” 

“This I cannot comment on, I’m rather new to friendship myself. But they care about you, in their own strange ways.” 

“I highly doubt that,” Essek said, inspecting Caleb’s loose red curls and that was why he wasn’t meeting Caleb’s gaze. “I’m terrible company.”

“That I disagree with,” Caleb chuckled into Essek’s skin. “Besides, I find myself to be terrible company, and they like me well enough. I’m still getting used to...being friends, but despite everything I would recommend it.” 

“Knock that off or I’ll punish you myself for your insolence,” Essek warned him, pinching his cheek. Caleb made a face, and it was charming because he hadn’t realized that Caleb could be silly. It was another delightful thing about him...something else Essek could get attached too. 

“Of course, whatever you wish,” Caleb said, leaning down. With a tender motion, he pushed Essek’s bangs from his forehead and pressed a sweet kiss there. Essek shoved him lightly, praying to the Luxon that Caleb couldn’t tell just how badly he was blushing. Somehow, despite everything, this was what affected him the most. 

_How typical_ , Essek thought, thoroughly annoyed at himself. _Get it together Essek_. 

Caleb didn’t seem to notice his inner turmoil, and instead gave him a closed mouth smile that danced in his eyes. 

Essek wondered what it would take to make Caleb look at him like that again. That’s how he knew he was in even more trouble than he had first anticipated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note is there some super secret shadowgast chat out there on tumblr or discord or something because I want to be a cool kid someone please invite me

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr! https://itsomgitsgreenblogging.tumblr.com/


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